


I’ll Be Good

by Muffinator



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Bad grammar because I do this for fun, Brainwashing, Eventual Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Major Character Injury, Major character death - Freeform, Schlatt is a bitch, Short Chapters, Techno doesn’t give a shit, Tommy is sad too, Traitor Toby Smith | Tubbo, Tubbo and Tommy love each other very much, Tubbo is sad, Whump, Wilbur can’t stand seeing his boys sad, but no homo, no happy ending, no planned romantic relationships, slowburn(ish), wilbur is a good dad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:22:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27204481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muffinator/pseuds/Muffinator
Summary: Tubbo comes to realize that Schlatt has done some good things for the nation, and Tommy doesn’t take too well to this.////Heavily based off the song “I’ll Be Good” by Jaymes Young.
Relationships: Tubbo & Tommyinnit
Comments: 8
Kudos: 154





	1. Tubbo Doesn’t Matter Anymore

Rain poured down over the once great nation, droplets pattering down on the rooftops around them. Trees swayed as they struggled to stay rooted and the wind whistled loudly in their ears. There had been no calm before the storm.

“You can’t be serious.”

Tubbo averted his gaze, shifting from foot to foot as he struggled to grasp what to say. He opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off;

“Nono, you understand what he’s doing, right?” Tommy exclaimed, throwing out his arms and furrowing his eyes at his friend who stood before him, “He’s doing this on purpose! You can’t let him do that, Tubbo. He’s. . He’s Schlatt, goddammit, you can’t believe him.”

Tubbo drew his gaze back to Tommy, hugging his arms to his chest, “our people are happy now.”

“Wh-“

“They have room to breathe, room to think for themselves,” Tubbo whispered, “I may not. . agree with Schlatt and all of his decisions. . but he’s made this nation so, so much better.”

Tommy fell silent, staring at Tubbo through the fog with his mouth gaping wide open. The disappointment in his eyes made Tubbo shiver and want to slink away. Never had he felt so guilty, especially concerning his best friend.

“Tommy. . you don’t have to fight him,” Tubbo tried to protest before things got ugly, “you can join us, you can. . you can fight for Manberg.”

“L’manburg.”

“Tommy-“

“No! I won’t hear it- I won’t fucking hear it, Tubbo!” Tommy raised his voice, stomping his foot, splattering droplets of wet mud on Tubbo’s shoes and the cuffs of his jeans. “I thought you were on my side!”

Tubbo shook his head in protest, taking a step toward Tommy, “I am, I am! You gotta believe me, I just- we’re not on the right side!”

“Fuck you.”

“. . What?” Tubbo’s muscles tensed and he froze in place, his breath hitching as he stared at the reckless boy who he loved ever so like a brother.

“You heard me.”

That was nearly a month ago, Tommy could recall. The two hadn’t spoken since, and quite frankly, Tommy wasn’t bothered (at least, that’s how it appeared).

Tubbo was a traitor now. He was the Eret in this chapter. He didn’t matter.

But God, that didn’t mean he didn’t miss him.

His best friend, the boy that kept him grounded in more ways than one and his mind sane. The not-so-innocent bee obsessed kid who shared his room and his thoughts. His Tubbo.

“Tommy? Techno’s back, we’re getting ready to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Wilbur blinked, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle, “you were an hour ago. . ?”

“I’m not now, so go away,” Tommy turned his back to the door where Wilbur stood, heaving a sputtery sigh.

The elder in the doorway felt a frown form on his lips, and before he knew it, he took a seat beside Tommy and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Tubbo?”

“What about him?”

“You’re thinking about him.”

Tommy shook his head in denial, grinding his teeth.

Wilbur gazed at the child beside him, despondent for his situation. Tommy had returned to Pogtopia in a fit of blinding, bitter rage on that stormy day a month ago. He knew everything about it.

/ / \ \

An ear splitting scream rang through the ravine, scaring Wilbur right out of his mind. He abandoned his duty of sorting through the chests and his gaze snapped to the platform above, furrowing his eyes, “Tommy?”

“Fucking shit!”

Definitely Tommy.

Wilbur glanced at the stairs when he heard the poorly constructed wood creak, cracking a welcoming smile when he laid eyes on Tommy, “hey. Everything alright?”

“No. Tubbo’s through.”

“What do you mean ‘Tubbo’s through’?” Wilbur wrinkled his nose, then panic dawned on his face and he grabbed Tommy by the shoulders, “Tommy, did Schlatt figure out what he’s been doing for us?”

“I wish!” Tommy’s angry and piercing stare was no doubt unnatural and the look startled Wilbur to his roots. “The little . . mmng! . . turned on us! Said he thinks we should lay off Schlatt because our people are happy there now.”

“. . are they?”

“Of course not!” Tommy cried, “it’s Schlatt! Our people - Niki - she’s living on the streets! Her taxes are sky high!”

Wilbur felt a pang in his heart, his eyes softening, “Tubbo wouldn’t say they’re happy unless Niki is okay.”

Tommy averted his gaze with an almost amused ‘tch’, barely protesting as he was pulled to the taller’s chest.

“Tubbo’s your best friend. Why don’t you trust him?” Wilbur questioned, rubbing circles on Tommy’s back.

“I don’t have a best friend.”

/ / \ \

Wilbur heaved a sigh and muttered an apology, then stood up and held out his hand for Tommy, which the younger reluctantly agreed to take.

“Let’s go eat. If you’re not hungry, that’s fine, but you’re going to sit there with us whether you like it or not,” Wilbur said sternly, pulling Tommy to his feet despite the whines of protest.

Tommy was pulled into the main ravine, where Techno was already waiting. Of course, all they had were potatoes nowadays. Baked potatoes, mashed potatoes, shitty potato recipes galore. Didn’t help that The Blade was better at slaughtering than he was cooking.

Tubbo was a good cook.

Tommy gulped, pulling away from Wilbur and wringing his hands. He stared down at the ground between his feet, zoning out as Techno and Wilbur broke into conversation. He didn’t know how long he was lost in thought, but when he snapped out of it, he had sat down and was holding his head up with his hand boredly as the elders continued to babble on about strategy.

He missed the days where Tubbo could sneak away from Shclatt’s watchful eye and join them for dinner in the ravine. The two would huddle up and talk about just about anything, sometimes Tubbo would even stay the night. They’d lay in each other’s arms, exchanging stories and jokes, wishing the world wasn’t so cruel.

God, how he missed Tubbo.

But Tubbo doesn’t matter anymore.


	2. Chapter 2: Cupcakes

With a shuddering breath, he gently plucked yet another orchid from the field, solemnly placing it in the basket beside him. There was already a pile of sad, wilted flowers inside and it only kept growing.

Schlatt didn’t like flowers. He didn’t like the bees they brought around, either.

Tubbo peered inside the basket, a frown molded on his face. Maybe they could live if he hurried along and planted them elsewhere, he told himself. With a disappointed sigh, he let his shoulders loosen, gaze scanning over the once beaming landscape. 

The only thing that could thrive on this land now were players, and Tubbo knew that was intentional. The closest forest was so far gone, having stood through war after war and flame after flame, but even the trees were beginning to give up. Tubbo liked to think he wasn’t the only one losing hope.

The yellow grass crunched and crumbled like fall leaves underfoot. The river that L’Manberg had once worshipped was dry and empty, full of nothing but pollution. Salmon hadn’t called that river home in months.

He couldn’t help it, really; the anguished sob that rose from his throat. 

What had his home become? The land he fought tooth and blood for? 

Tubbo raised a shaking hand to his eyes, desperately wiping his tears as he willed this feeling out of his chest. He had work to do and he couldn’t go back to Schlatt looking like he had been ugly crying. 

But the feeling didn’t go away, and he knew it wouldn’t. It had already been there for weeks, this lingering sense of dread that weighed him down. It hadn’t gone away since he last saw Tommy. 

_Tommy_.

Now he really was ugly crying, the entirety of his small figure trembling violently. Yet another raspy sob escaped from between his lips, and so the boy covered his mouth, squeezing his eyes shut to prevent any more tears from wettening his cheeks. 

_L’Manberg is better now._

Lie.

_Schlatt is a good leader._

Lie.

_Tommy will forgive you_.

Lie.

_You won’t regret this._

Lie.

Tubbo had to put his trust in Schlatt, he _had_ to. There was no turning back from this point, and no other option other than to keep lying to himself. 

He sat there on his knees for a good, long while, sputtering sobs and quiet, winded cries between sharp breaths, folded over himself. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he realized the sun was mid-sky and he was late - _late for what?_ \- as usual.

With wobbly legs and knees that felt like jelly, Tubbo forced himself to his feet, drawing in a hoarse breath. He dusted off his suit and sniffled, wiping his eyes once more before picking up the basket of long dead orchids. 

He trudged into the center of town, lugging the basket along with him. Just having to even think about it broke his heart; orchids had always been his favorite. 

Tubbo came to an abrupt stop, glancing around the streets nervously before taking a sharp turn and a detour. Schlatt would understand his tardiness if he brought the President something good, right? 

It’s not like it even mattered. He was Schlatt’s right-hand man, after all. No matter how bad he screwed up, he seemed to always be forgiven. 

Tubbo dragged himself over to a small shop on the corner, his head pounding from his previous crying session, but the welcoming scent of Niki’s bakery helped the ache the moment he stepped inside. The familiar chime of the bell above the door was enough to warm his heart alone, honestly. 

“Hello?” Niki peeked in from the doorway of the bakery’s kitchen, a surprised yet delighted smile plastered on her face at the sight of her old friend, “Tubbo! It’s- It’s been a little while.”

Tubbo gave a small nod of acknowledgment, but nothing more, and that was enough for Niki to understand. Sympathy for the younger welled up in her chest and she patted the counter, “have a seat.”

The small boy quickly obliged, setting the basket by his feet. He looked to Niki expectantly, which earned him a soft chuckle from her, “cupcakes?” He hastily nodded, cracking a smile. 

Niki reached beneath the counter and pulled out a set of 12, blue frosted cupcakes. The sight made Tubbo’s mouth water, but he snapped out of it as he come to a sudden realization, “how much?”

“On the house.”

“Niki, no,” Tubbo shook his head, a look of horror coming over his face, “you don’t have a home! You can barely keep this place open!” 

She smiled softly, taking Tubbo’s hand, “you’re worth missing out on four dollars for. Besides, you deserve it, you work harder than I do.” 

“You shouldn’t have to suffer for my mistakes,” Tubbo said and averted his gaze, guilt piling up with the mess of other emotions that tugged at his heart. 

“I’m not,” Niki cooed softly like she were speaking to a toddler, giving Tubbo’s hand a good squeeze, “I’m okay as long as _you’re_ okay; as long as Wilbur and Tommy are alive.” 

Tubbo’s breath hitched at the mention of his best friend, or was it former best friend? His eyes furrowed, what if Tommy didn’t see him as a friend anymore? Did they lose an essential ally all because of him? 

Niki laughed, letting go of Tubbo’s hand, “Stop thinking and eat. You’re a child, not a soldier.” She said.

With an amused sigh, Tubbo looked gratefully back at Niki, “actually, I better be going. Wouldn’t want Mr. President to be mad, ahah. Are these still free if they’re for Schlatt too?” He jabbed. 

Niki didn’t laugh, her smile dimming. She nodded.

Tubbo opened his mouth, but shut it again, looking Niki over. His stomach sank because he was only now realizing how miserable she looked, the smile being just a clever facade. He held so much power at Schlatt’s side, how could he let this happen to his friends?

“Well, thanks.” He mumbled, tucking the package of cupcakes under one arm, balancing the basket of orchids under the other, “I’ll make it up to you later.”

“Tubbo-“ Niki went to protest, but Tubbo had already turned and walked out the door. 

**/ / \ \**

“Tubbo! Little T!” Schlatt bellowed a laugh, throwing an arm around the small boy the moment Tubbo stepped in the office, “are the fields clear?”

“Yes, Mr. President,” Tubbo uttered a small, shaky laugh, cowering away from Schlatt’s touch. 

Schlatt’s grin widened, ruffling the other’s hair anyway, “good, good. Now sit, we have to talk.” The president walked to the back of his desk and sat, looking to Tubbo expectantly.

Tubbo’s heart stopped. A breath barely shuddered through his parted lips and he obeyed, sitting across from Schlatt with the cupcakes resting nicely in his lap. 

“Now, things have been going well, wouldn’t you say?” 

“I-“

“I say they have been. I mean, those shit walls are gone and the flag-“ Schlatt paused to whistle, leaning back in his chair, “-man, God bless that flag, amirite?” 

Tubbo nodded, tapping his fingers against his knee. 

“Nothing to say? Alright then, fine,” Schlatt smiled crookedly, then continued, “things are getting boring around here, Tubbo. Not enough - mh - chaos. I propose we drive those damned forest-dwellers deeper into the trees like fucking fearful squirrels!” 

“Haha, what do you mean by that, Schlatt?” Tubbo questioned, gripping his knees now. 

“We burn those trees to the ground,” Schlatt whispered, leaning across his desk, “and then, of course, we celebrate.” 

He didn’t want to hear any more. Tubbo - with yet another nod - shakily slid the cupcakes to Schlatt, offering him a little smile, “okay.” 

Schlatt raised an eyebrow at the pastries, then snorted, “you know me too well, dontcha, kid?”

“I’m your right-hand man, Mr. President,” Tubbo smiled, “I know you better than you know yourself.”


End file.
